Warmth
by babyb26
Summary: What is a couple to do when trapped in a blizzard and in desperate need of quality time? What happens when desire sets a blaze in them both?


Hi all, just trying something new and I'm not sure if I will keep this up, it is a little different for me.

Disclamer: This story is written for **For Mature Readers Only.** I do not own any characters (but they do belong to history) and make no profits. Please RR.

_Warmth_

Why in the world was she stuck in the middle of a blizzard? Then she remembered, quality time with the man she loved, right? Wrong, considering she was now tugging through the bitter snow toward Jamestown.

With the wind howling and visibility nonexistent, it was not until dusk that they walked through the great wooden gates of Jamestown. She could feel him next to her; it was his heat which guided her through the frigid twilight and into his home. The warmth of the small cabin enveloped her. It wasn't until the weight of the soft fur that encased her body fell to the floor that she realized that it was John's doing. Silently he stood, so close that she felt his soft breaths caress the back of her neck. Perhaps they would be spending quality time together?

"Warm enough."

His words were hot in her ear as he brought his arms around her and a bright smile crossed her face.

"My father will be looking for us?" Turning she stated with a smirk.

If Pocahontas thought this would dampen his mood she was wrong. He was a breath way from her lips when he spoke, "Not until the morning, the snow's too bad."

"Well what do you suppose we do until then?"

His arms tightened around her as he brought his mouth down to hers bringing a white hot heat that burned through her veins. The kiss left her unawares to his movement and suddenly she found herself in the middle of the barren room that held only the blaze of a fire and the promise of a soft bed.

"Have that quality time of ours," his words were laced with desire.

It would be a balmy night. As the fire light glowed against them she wanted more, she simply wanted him and he her; she felt no trepidation in the orange glow of the fire. Turning her back against the strength of his chest she felt callused hands caress her shoulder, delicately they flowed across her dark skin untying laces. It was with her own hands a top his that they together slipped the winter dress from her body. Cupping her jaw softly he turned her to face him. His cerulean eyes met her hazel and between them an inferno was building. She was captured by him, flushed with the heat of the fire and of her own desire she silently called to him; and he answered in a trail of wet kisses that drifted from her shoulder descending upon her full breasts and to the valley in-between.

His kisses were tender as he fell to his knees their path venturing downward. The hands that and ran up and down her thighs were searing; her own lay fisted in his blond hair as shudders ran through her body. His gentle embrace teased and explored, loving her in the tenderest of ways. He heard the soft groans that escaped her lips, they inflamed the fire that was burring within him but in that moment he only wanted to bring her ecstasy and he knew he had given her this.

Slowly he rose and enveloped her heated body within his own; with their closeness she could feel the wild beating of his heart. When her senses returned she looked into his eyes and saw their want.

It was he who stripped the shirt from his body; he was rewarded with supple kisses that trailed across his pale chest to the scar that he carried for her. Here her tongue stroked the sensitive patch of skin, his eyes closing to the sensation. In the darkness his hands found her neck and spurred her on with is touch. Somewhere in the frenzy he completely revealed himself to her. Her hands roamed across the tight flesh of his chest, her nails marking him. He gave in to his desire.

Gathering her in his arms he carried her to the bed, she smiled to him as she lay in its center. With a nudging knee he opened her, as their bodies made contact her hips lifted in invitation. He brushed his lips upon hers and claimed her in the amber light, there was no pain. In that one movement he made them of one body, of one heart. They rocked together in a rhythm that was both passionate and frenzied. Her nails raked across his heavily muscled back as he laid gentle kisses against her neck. They shifted and he surrendered himself to her will, gripping her trembling hips as she tightened against him. He fought his own body as it tensed; straining as he pushed deeper discovering more of her. Kissing him intensely she yielded to her own fire, only then did he allow himself to burn in pleasure. In the rapture they reached for each other and she lay upon his chest both succumbing to the frozen night in a heat of their own.

The early morning sun was bright in the narrow Jamestown window, it woke them. John's voice was a husky rumble in her ear,

"You have enough quality time."

Bringing her head from his chest her answer was a glowing smile; however the hard pounding on the cider door and the familiar voice on the other side wiped it from her face.

"John Smith where is my daughter?"

"Its father, I told you he would…"

"Don't even say it Pocahontas," John replied as both scrambled to dress.

Stopping she turned to him, "I'm done with your idea of quality time."

"You sure?" he offered heading to the door.

She walked towards him, "yes, now all I want is your warmth if we live."


End file.
